The Roads of Destiny
by Emerald Thorn
Summary: Promised backstory to Life Long Love (you may want to read that first even if it's not finished yet) about Salazar and Godric. Placed in hpdm because there are no categories for sal and godric.


Working title: The Roads of Destiny

Author: Emerald Thorn

Rating: for now, G. Later on R.

Author's notes: As I cannot work on LLL or SH right at the moment I am posting this—the beginning of the back story for Sal and Godric. This is the rough draft version as I am not on my computer (and I hate this keyboard!) and I don't have a beta reader for this story nor do I have the time on the computer to do a thorough check of my grammer/spelling/english. Sorry for the long absence of updates to my other stories! I didn't mean to!

Prologue:

The Hogshead Inn's common room was mostly emptied by the time the mysterious blonde came back down the stairs. Earlier when the blonde had first arrived in the late October thunderstorm he had only stayed long enough to request a single room from Godric's father before disappearing up the stairs. When Godric had asked his father who the stranger was, his father had ordered him back to serving the customers their supper with no answer.

The inn was unseasonable busy because a bard had wandered uncommonly far North and was performing for the next seven day before heading back South towards the richer, more densely populated areas. The bard was a boon to the business—families from two days journey away had come to listen and spend some coin before the weather mad traveling difficult. By Godric's estimate, the blonde stranger had gotten the only remaining room—which meant the blonde was fairly well off. Godric himself was supposed to bunk in the kitchen as the common room fire was reserved for the children of paying guests. Godric was currently watching the large fire, occasionally adding another log or rearranging the already burning ones to generate more heat.

The fair-haired stranger had caught many people's attention—his uncommonly gold hair and the rich clothes he wore were hardly seen this far North into the Highlands. The man also openly bore a sword strapped at his side but didn't seem hostile although he wore the sword well enough to indicate he was skilled with using it. From the moment he swung the ancient fir door open, Godric had felt his destiny call out to him drawing his attention to the blonde stranger. Godric had nearly dropped the serving tray he had been holding as the blonde's eyes had swept the room and briefly met his own before Godric's father had greeted the stranger and broken their short contact.

Now Godric sat close to the fire on a small footstool with two young boys sprawled happily on straw pallets to his right and a small girl sitting on a second stool sipping at a cup of water Godric had given her. The stranger paused soundlessly at the foot of the stairs. When he caught sight of Godric and the girl beside the fire, he carefully scanned them with his eyes taking account of their appearance. The tall, slender figure was clad in a swath of pitch black leather and a finely woven matching cloak. The hood was pulled up and forward, helping the thick gold hair hide the expression on the man's face. From his stool, Godric felt his voice desert him under the crystal blue stare so he fumbled in the wood box and plucked out another log for the fire. Adding the log, Godric turned his attention to the fire which he decided needed some stroking. When he turned his attention away from the fire he was surprised to find the stranger warming his hands over the fire. A silver ring with a stone that matched the man's eyes caught his attention in the firelight, but before he could get a closer look the man withdrew his hands into his pockets.

"Go'rick, I'm going back to mommy," Marna, the girl, said. Godric had all but forgotten her presence when the man had appeared. Godric nodded to her as she placed her cup on one of the tables as she slipped out of the room and up the stairs.

Seeing the man wasn't looking at him but at the fire, Godric turned his gaze back to the fire. He was afraid if he started looking at the blonde he wouldn't be able to stop and would embarrass himself.

"The innkeeper said that the evening meal was included in the price of the room. Is there someone I must awake to get something to eat?"

Godric's eyes flickered to the blonde before quickly returning to the fire when he saw the blonde still wasn't looking at him as he spoke. "Nobody to wake up. I can get you something. There should be some of the stew and bread left. Maybe a bit of pastry if you'll be wanting some," Godric told the man in what he hoped was a confident voice.

A smooth chuckle escaped the hood causing Godric to actually look at the stranger's profile. A relaxed smile could be seen under the fringe of gold bang. "That will do. Do you have any wine or must I have ale?"

Godric thought on that. Normally they didn't serve wine unless the customer was paying extra for it but they rarely let out the room the blonde was staying in as most people couldn't afford it. There were a few bottles in the cellar that his father occasionally opened or sold. He probably shouldn't give it up for free but Godric felt that the stranger warranted the added expense because of the cost of his room.

"I think I could find some. Have a seat and I'll go get it."

oOo

The boy was interesting—and very young and a typical muggle Scotsman. Long, lanky limbs clad in rough cloth with the signature tartan of one of the many clans that covered the north would fit the description of many men he had met on his journey. The boy did smell wonderful, but even with his instincts going mad over the boy it didn't really mean much without the boy possessing a magical gift. Despite the boy's height, Sal would estimate the boy as only perhaps thirteen years old. It was too bad he was a muggle and not of wizarding stock—his eyes were bright and he seemed quick of mind.

Sal had been surprised to see the boy and girl still awake. It was very late and everyone else in the inn had retired to their beds. Sal had been going to check on the stallion he had bought further North but had decided that maybe he was hungry after all if the children could fetch him something warm. Catching sight of the boy illuminated by the fire, his face painted in shadow by the glow of the fire causing the still youth-softened features to make the boy look even younger, Sal felt an unusual tingle race down his spine making him shiver.

When he requested the wine, the boy had paused overly long before replying, his face creased in concentration as he thought. The look was quite comical and it endeared the boy to Sal immediately. When the boy responded positively, he scampered off to gather the requested supper.

To his surprise, Sal found himself following the boy into the kitchen. The boy, too, was surprised and gestured towards a large trestle table that was covered in dirty dishes and a chair with a clean apron draped across the back. Sal took a seat and watched as the boy quickly set about the kitchen to stroke the coals in the fireplace to life before placing a large pot on the hook over the now blazing fire. The boy then reached into a side cupboard and placed a clean bowl and spoon on the table in front of Sal after he cleaned the place with a few swipes of a wet cloth. From behind a leaning tower of dirty soup bowls a fresh, half-loaf of thick bread was produced, then honey and butter.

As the boy went to work industriously stirring the pot, Sal felt compelled to break the awkward silence, "What is your name?"

The boy looked up briefly from under his wild mop of unruly hair before looking back into the pot he was stirring. "Godric, son of Unther."

It was too bad no one would teach the boy to tie his hair back properly so you could see the eyes framed by thick, sooty lashes Sal mused as he pulled his knife out and sliced the bread carefully.

Finally the boy gathered his courage and spoke again, "What is your name? You're not from around here."

Debating whether or not to tell the truth or not, Sal could thing of no harm in telling the boy the truth. "I am Salazar."

"Sal-uh-zar," the boy tried the name, twisting his tongue around the unusual syllables. "That's an odd name. Where are you from?" The boy removed the pot and poured the vegetable stew into Sal's bowl.

"It's not unusual where I come from. How old are you?"

"Fourteen—but where are you from?"

"Cymry in the south. I would have thought you were younger."

"I was fourteen at the harvest moon. I've heard of Cymry before. The bards say it's far away."

"It is. I'll be lucky to make it home before the snows come in heavy."

"So what are you doing here if you live so far away?"

"I bought a horse from a friend and now I'm returning home."

"Oh…," Godric said as he disappeared into the cellar to fetch the wine, speaking no more with the unusual man from Cymry. Sal ate his food without comment. When he was done, he gave Godric an encouraging smile and a penny for his service before returning to his room—horse forgotten.

oOo

The next morning Sal passed an asleep Godric in the common room. Looking even younger in his sleep than his fourteen years, Sal gave into a powerful impulse and placed a warded amulet he carried with him everywhere around the boy's neck. No one would see it but him or another wizard and it would protect the boy from harm. Sal left before the boy awoke.

oOo

When Godric awoke he was upset to find Salazar had left without saying goodbye. Days later he would be startled when his father yelled at him to stop stroking his collar.


End file.
